


That I Should Be So Lucky

by badtasteunlimited



Category: Persona 3
Genre: Angst, F/M, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Other, gender neutral narrator, self-indulgent as fucque
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 17:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13322664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badtasteunlimited/pseuds/badtasteunlimited
Summary: Gender neutral narrator and Shinjiro have gone back to his room post 10th Social Link. In-game this ends with implied salaciousness, which I'm all for, but I wanted to shove myself into that bonus event and show how it might have worked out with a protagonist with some baggage. Light swearing, displays of affection, and implied abuse. Otherwise completely vanilla, no tricks.





	That I Should Be So Lucky

“Are you—?”

He’s biting back profanity.

“Of course it’s not your fault.”

I haven’t looked at him in what seems like hours.

“Why would you think that? Why would you think _I_ would think that?”

_I don’t know._

A familiar maroon coat was folded on the edge of the bed. Leaning over and burrowing into it feels like an appropriate course of action. I want to look him in the eyes, I want to rewind, honestly, and not have this conversation at all. I just have to keep reminding myself: _Deep breath, deep breath._

“I don’t know, I’m sorry.” I can hear my voice shaking from inside my cocoon. I can hide my face, yeah, but muffling my voice doesn’t seem to do shit. “Your coat smells nice.” _Why did I think this would be an okay thing to bring up?_ I tell myself to keep breathing in the now-stale air inside Shinjiro’s coat.

“That’s good to hear and all, but I, uh, don’t know if that’s what you really wanted to talk about.”

I know he can’t see me try to smile from under the coat. Somehow I feel like a thumbs up as an affirmative isn’t going to be received well. I shifted a sleeve for fresh air and mumbled an apology.

“I didn’t mean to mess stuff up. Guess nothing good can really come from, ‘There’s something I have to tell you,’ huh?”

I can’t read his face. Frustration? Pain? Indigestion? _Ugh._ What is it about an uncomfortable situation that tells my brain it’s jokes-o’-clock? How the fuck do I dig myself out of that one?

“I-I shouldn’t have mentioned it, Senpai.”

I don’t know what to say. His jacket has a loose thread on the left sleeve.

“I don’t want to make you feel bad.”

I can wrap the thread around the buckle on his sleeves almost four times.

“It happened a long time ago.”

I don’t know what he wants to hear. I want to count the spots, like tiny freckles on the ceiling. I want to un-say everything I’ve ever said.

“People have dealt with a lot worse than me--”

“Hey.”

In case his words didn’t reach me, I guess, he interjected with a hand on the back of my head. It was pretty graceful way to stop me from furthering my foot’s journey into my mouth, especially for Shinjiro.

“Just. Keep it down for a minute, okay?” He sounds tired, like the parent with a problem child. _Fuck._

I felt a hand in my hair. It’s a little clumsy, and I do feel kind of like a housecat, but I’m not ungrateful.

“I know you’d never tell someone who’s been hurt that it isn’t a big deal just because you’re hurting more.”

I tore my eyes off of my lap and looked him right in the chin, because holy shit, if I make eye contact, the floodgates are gonna open. Then I’ll really look like a stupid kid. I grunted some approximation of agreement, prompting him to continue.

“So why the _hell_ would you do that to yourself?”

“I don’t know,” I tucked my head under his chin. “I don’t know. And I don’t know how to stop. But I know you’re supposed to talk about crap like this so you can get over it.”

His turtleneck was soft on my cheek. It’s nice. _Too bad I’m about to get it wet._

“And I wanna to get over it. I wanna be normal, I want this to be normal.”

What sounded like a snort was quickly followed by a fit of coughing.

“I’m fine,” he brushed it off. “Maybe relax a little, though?”

_Oh._ I let up my grip on his arm.

“Uh, I hate to break it to you. We live in a world of Tartarus and fighting shadows. You’re never gonna get normal out of that.”

Trying not to laugh at that obvious truth is useless, but I can see it turning into sniffles and sobs any minute now. Wrapping my arms around his back, I can almost feel my fingertips touch. _At least that half of his shirt is dry._

“But, look, screw all that, and screw the bastard that hurt you.” Whatever lightness was there had left his voice, replaced with I-don’t-know-what. Passion? Anger? _(Indigestion?)_

“And screw whoever made you feel like it shouldn’t matter, too. Of course it matters. And I’m glad you got it off your chest. Keeping a secret like that is bad for your health.” Ah, back to the grumbling I know and love. “Take it from me.”

His hand returned to that comfortable spot on the back of your head, resuming that same slow, reassuring movement from earlier. “And I get it if you don’t wanna keep talking about it right now, I can shut up. But I want you to know that if I'm gonna be pissed at anyone, it's gonna be that asshole—”

Was putting all of my weight into tackling him a great decision? No. Was it one that I’d hemmed and hawed over for while fidgeting with his jacket for what felt like an hour? No. But that sort of thinking wasn’t really getting me anywhere, though, was it?

“Thanks, Senpai,” I murmured. I can hear his heart beating. “For dealing with me.”

“Quit it with that, will ya?” His words buzz against my ear. “Sure, you’re a handful, but, you took time to deal with the likes of me. It’s the least I can do.”

Sitting in silence feels less oppressive now. It feels, for lack of a better word, normal. Like a pause between acts, we're just getting everything set up for the next scene.

I don’t know how long it is before he speaks again.

“About what you said earlier. I, uh, I love you, too.”

I’m too comfortable in his arms to look up, but I’ve embarrassed him enough times to know the exact shade of red his ears were right now.

I can’t smile wide enough.

I spent a long time with Shinjiro.

**Author's Note:**

> self indulgent Bad Taste™ rendition of a hurt/comfort fic, i guess. i had to talk about some painful stuff in therapy today and this is apparently how i deal with things lmao. sorry for being like T-rated and junk. title is stupid and personal because it's what i've always told myself when i thought about being hurt in the past. that i should be so lucky that someone chose me. but wrt this story, i want to turn it around. that i should be so lucky that someone cares about me and tells me that it's not my fault and that i'm okay. same to all of you.


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